


Forever on Your Hips

by randythrandy24



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randythrandy24/pseuds/randythrandy24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan always had a thing for hands. He liked the idea of large hands grasping his waist and sporting fingerprint shaped bruises on his hips for a week. Just thinking about it made his breathe hitch and his face redden. He was sitting in the Cafe Musain writing poetry about the warm weather and daydreaming about a certain man with just the kind of hands he liked. As if on cue, that certain man, walked up to him. "Tell me, dear poet, what it is that has you so flushed?" Bahorel said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever on Your Hips

Jehan always had a thing for hands. He liked the idea of large hands grasping his waist and sporting fingerprint shaped bruises on his hips for a week. Just thinking about it made his breathe hitch and his face redden. He was sitting in the Cafe Musain writing poetry about the warm weather and daydreaming about a certain man with just the kind of hands he liked. As if on cue, that certain man, walked up to him. "Tell me, dear poet, what it is that has you so flushed?" Bahorel said.

Jehan froze. He didn't know what to do or what to say. He took a deep breath and decided that now was as good a time as any to pursue his interests. "Just your hands. They're so large. I was imagining what they would look pressed into my hips as you took me." Now saying all this did not come easy to Jehan. His face turned redder, much to Bahorel's amusement and he dropped his gaze to the parchment resting in his lap. "Well then, dear poet, I find that agreeable. Perhaps we should get out of this place. I fear our friends wouldn't appreciate the show." Jehan whipped his head up quickly, his long hair, tied back with a black ribbon, swung around behind him. He couldn't see any trace of mocking in the fighter’s gaze, so he decided to grasp Bahorel's large hand in his own.  
They left together, not without a few looks and hushed whispers from their friends. The walk was short and silent, but Jehan didn't feel awkward at all, in fact he felt rather nervous. The man he had been crushing on for quite some time was going to bed with him. His already flushed face once again became an even deeper shade of red. His hands were shaking as he reached for the door of his apartment. Once inside he shuffled to the bedroom, turning to see if Bahorel was still following him.

Bahorel had managed to make the distance from the main room to the bedroom in about three strides. He was staring down at the younger man and Jehan could hardly see any of the color behind the pupils that were blown wide with lust. "Tell me Jehan, what is it that you imagined me doing to you?" He said as he reached for the other man’s cravat, giving it a gentle tug until it came free of his neck. Jehan shuddered. He was not unaccustomed to the pleasures of the flesh, but he was much better at writing about them. "I....I imagine you would lead me to bed. You would kiss me all over, until I was gasping and pleading for you to move on." Bahorel did just that, he led Jehan to the large bed and Jehan fell down when the back of his knees bumped into it. He crawled on top of the smaller man and covered his lips with his own. His hand reached down and he began to undo the buttons on Jehan's waistcoat. Once he had it opened he moved for Jehan to sit up. When he did Bahorel removed the waistcoat quickly and then nearly tore his shirt as he tried to get it out Jehan's head. Jehan giggled and Bahorel cursed and muttered a quick "sorry" before he swooped down to capture the other man’s lips again.

Jehan ran his hands down Bahorel's chest until he reached the top of his pants. Bahorel had forgone a waistcoat, as he often did when he spent the night drinking and brawling. Jehan gave a tug and loosed the shirt from the waist of his pants. He then proceeded to pull it over the man's head with much more ease then was previously demonstrated. Bahorel moaned when Jehan's hands trailed from his shoulders down over his chest to the bulge that was pushing against his trousers. He also took this time to look closely at the other man's body. He was covered in scars from previous fights and he had deep purple bruises that had formed from his most recent ones. Jehan trailed his finger over a particularly dark bruise that had formed on the man’s left shoulder. Bahorel groaned and moved his hands down and began to pop the buttons on Jehan's trousers. He reached inside and circled his thumb around the tip of Jehan's cock, which was straining with arousal. Jehan let out a moan and his eyes fluttered closed. Bahorel had managed to remove his trousers with a little goading and Jehan now lay naked in front of him.

He slid back to his knees in order to get a better look at the poet writhing beneath him. He let out a groan of approval as he reached down to palm himself. He slid off his own trousers and stuck three fingers up to Jehan's lips. "Suck" he commanded. Jehan parted his lips and took the digits into his mouth. His worked his tongue over the tips, as he would do if it had been Bahorel's cock in his mouth instead. He sucked hard and swallowed around the fingers, causing Bahorel to moan deeply. "Enough, my Jehan, or I fear this will be over before it begins." He removed his fingers from Jehan's mouth and circled one around his entrance. Jehan squeezed his eyes closed as the finger breached him. It had been quite some time since he had partaken in these activities and he wasn't prepared for the pain he felt. "Relax for me. It will all feel better here shortly." Bahorel assured him, his voice sounding much more wrecked then it had a few moments ago. He eased the finger in and out slowly and Jehan began to relax. When he felt that he had relaxed enough a second finger was added next to the first. These fingers, which were rather large, began to scissors his opening, in order to stretch him more.

Bahorel crooked his fingers, searching for that spot he knew would make his poet arch and cry out. "BAHOREL!" Jehan screamed. "Ahhh" he chuckled, “it seems I have found what I was looking for." He continued to strike his prostate with every thrust. He added a third finger and after a few more thrust, decided that Jehan was ready. Jehan whined at the loss, feeling empty. Bahorel spit into his palm and rubbed it over his cock, mixing it with the pre-come that was leaking out. He lined himself up with Jehan and began to slowly push in. "Relax, Jehan. You must relax or it will only hurt more." With this said Jehan willed himself to relax. He took deep breathes to steady himself. Once Bahorel was fully sheathed he waited. Jehan gave a quick nod and Bahorel began to move. His thrusts were shallow at first and did not pick up until a softly muttered, "Please, Bahorel, please..." escaped from Jehan's lips. He didn't need to be told twice. His thrusts began to pick up speed and the grip on Jehan's hips tightened. He angled his hips slightly, causing him to ram into Jehan's prostate with every thrust. Jehan had all but turned into a babbling mess at this point. His thoughts were everywhere and he took a deep breath and zeroed in on where Bahorel's hands met his hips. The tight grip there and the slight pain he felt was enough to send him over the edge. He came with a cry, clamping down on the cock inside him like a vice. Bahorel groaned and gave a few more frenzied thrusts into Jehan before he was spilling inside the man. He collapsed on top of him with a huff. After regaining his composure he slid out from Jehan and rolled over to lie next to him. He wrapped his arm protectively around the man's thin waste. 'We can clean up tomorrow' he thought. It didn't take long for them to fall into a deep slumber.

When Jehan awoke the next morning he was sticky with sweat and the fluids from the night before. He felt gross and he was sure he smelled even worse. As he got up he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. There, on his hips, were five dark purple marks, perfectly matching the hands that had gripped him there the night before. He smiled to himself as he ran his own hand over the bruises. He hadn't noticed that Bahorel had gotten up and was now standing behind him. Bahorel moved Jehan's hand out of the way and placed his own over the bruises. "Do you like them?" He asked. Jehan felt his face flush with embarrassment. Bahorel took this as a sign and tightened his grip. He leaned down and whispered, "Perhaps I can make sure that they never disappear from your body, sweet Jehan." Jehan knew then that he would not be getting clean anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this on tumblr. If you wish to send me a prompt, send an ask at http://randythrandy24.tumblr.com/ and I will try to post it both on tumblr and on here :D


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